


How To Woo Your Dragon

by stormbourne



Series: monsterfucking on main [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dragonfucking, Dragons, Fantasy AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-05-16 19:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14817326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbourne/pseuds/stormbourne
Summary: Dirk Strider, adventurer for hire and longtime monster hunter, has a new target: Lord English, a dragon that's been terrorizing the countryside for upwards of ten years. The good news is that he's got a seer, a master thief, and his brother all making sure he doesn't do anything stupid. The bad news? The dragon that he finds isn't exactly the one he's looking for.





	1. Chapter 1

"Can I make one thing absolutely clear?" 

Dave glanced over his shoulder at Dirk. It might have been more effective if his entire shirt collar wasn't soaked in purplish blood.

"Let me guess," he said. "You're never doing anything like that again." 

"I am definitely," Dirk emphasized, "never doing anything like that again." 

"Right," Dave said with a nod. "That's what I said."

He ducked under a branch and Dirk followed his lead as they kept walking through the forest. Dirk glanced back over his shoulder to look at the trail of purple-blue footprints trailing after the two of them. Then he looked down at the soaked and bloody edges of his own cape and grimaced.

"I'm serious," he clarified. "Never. Not once. I have fucking had it, Dave. This is the third fucking job in a row we've taken where we've ended up covered in shit. Not literal shit, maybe, but you know, at this point even that wouldn't surprise me. We have been absolutely bathing in viscera, Dave. We probably have so many fuckin' riverwyrm diseases crawling on our skin right now that it's a wonder we don't just drop dead on the spot."

"The job said it was gonna be messy," Dave said. "I even remember being like huh Dirk, you sure we wanna take this one? You know riverwyrms are basically just big goo-snakes right? And we're gonna be covered in goo? And as I remember you said hell yeah Dave, you have no idea how absolutely mad jazzed I am to roll around in that goo like a dog that just found a pile of shit. A pile of purple monster shit specifically. Damn Dave that sounds like the best thing ever let's go. And I was like well, Dirk, that sure is weird from someone who buys a bath at every single inn we go to but -- "

"I get the point," Dirk interrupted. He peeled his cloak off, gathering it in his arms and frowning at the blotches of shimmering violet marring the black cloth. "It pays well," he said. "So I don't know what you've got to cry about."

"Uh, bro, I'm very much not the one complaining," Dave said, pushing aside a branch covered in tree sap. Dirk braced for him to flip it back at him, but Dave just gave Dirk a bemused look as he brushed past. "One of us is all mourning the loss of their fuckin' velvet boots while the other one knew this was not the sort of job where you should wear velvet. We were killing riverwyrms, not going to a dinner party." Then he pretended dismay. "Unless they gave you an invite to one and totally fuckin' skipped me. Is that what happened, Dirk? Were you gonna get wined and dined by a watersnake?" 

"Wow, Dave," Dirk drawled, going to shove his crumpled cloak into his bag and then thinking better of it, "kinkshame much?" He shook out the cloak and cringed as a bit of purple blood splattered onto his cheek instead of onto the ground.

"Dude," Dave said. "Give it up. You can toss out that piece of shit when we get to town and get a new one that's twice as unnecessarily glitzy. Maybe get a big vampire collar on it and then use the rest of your money to buy a secluded tower in the mountains where you can turn into a bat." 

"What did I just say about kinkshaming, dude?" Dirk could see the edge of the woods now, giving way to the fields of tall grass outside Phandalin. The shadows of the trees casting toward them were getting longer, the light turning golden and pink, and there was a smell in the air of coals and fire. Dirk's stomach grumbled and, tossing his cloak over one shoulder, he frowned as he rummaged in his bag for some food. He came up with an apple. 

"You smell that?" he asked Dave. "Must be about dinnertime." 

Dave wrinkled his nose, turning toward the edge of the treeline. "We're pretty far from town," he said. "Unless they're throwing a cookout in our honor for killing some damn water snakes, and, uh, no offense Dirk, but that doesn't seem likely to me. And even if that's the case, we sure are gonna crash the party when we roll in there covered in snake goo." He brushed off his chest guard. "Hey yall. Don't mind us stinkin' up the place. Just gonna bask in our victorious glory here while coincidentally making everybody else bask in our rank stench. Hope that's rad." 

"We don't smell that bad," Dirk said. 

"We smell like a riverwyrm took a dump down in its own mouth and then horfed it back up."

"Okay, maybe we do smell that bad." 

Dave pushed the last of the branches from the path, stepping out into the light of sunset. Dirk followed, blinking in the bright light and looking up at the sky. They probably had another two hours of daylight -- plenty of time to get back to town. He probably couldn't replace his clothes tonight, but he could at least see if any of them could be salvaged, and figure out how much new ones would cost out of what they were about to get paid.

"Uh, Dirk," Dave said.

There was a thick column of smoke rising into the air. Dirk couldn't see the source from behind the crest of the hill, but Dave was standing a good fifty feet ahead, holding one purple-splattered hand over his head to block out the sun. 

"I don't think we're getting paid," his brother continued. 

A moment passed before Dirk understood what Dave had just said and hurried to stand beside him on the crest off the hill, Below them, the valley spread out like a quilt, with a blackened and smoking spot right in the middle of it, where Phandalin had once been. 

Three hours later, just after the sun had gone down, they found the caravan.

It was a big one. Dirk had no idea how many families had been in Phandalin, but if he had to guess, he'd say most people had made it out alive. The devastation didn't seem to have extended outside of the town -- whatever the dragon had wanted, it hadn't been willing to chase the people down for. 

He could hardly change into nicer clothes and present himself as the businesslike adventurer he usually attempted while Dave played at being the country hick. Instead, they both made their way to the fire. Dave glanced around at the wagons and tents around them, the teenagers sleeping on the ground, the hastily-packed belongings.

The mayor was sitting in front of the fire, looking pensively into the flames. 

Dirk debated leading up to it. Greeting the mayor, gently asking how everybody was, leading into discussion of what had happened and why. He wasn't sure of the best way to go about it. Nothing he could come up with sounded gentle or sensitive enough.

Dave, as usual, beat him to the punch.

"Hi," he said, with characteristic grace. "What the fuck happened?" 

Mayor Garvey looked up at the two of them. He was a drawn, sickly-looking man, with a face as weathered as a cliff by the sea. He sighed, looked at the camp around them, and then gestured for them to sit.

Dirk did. Dave remained standing.

"What do you think happened?" the old man said. "The same damn wyrm that's been making trouble for the last ten years all up and down the river finally found his way to us." He dusted his hands on his knees, frowning. 

"Everyone make it out safe?" Dirk asked.

"By the skin of our noses," Garvey replied. He ran his hands through his thinning hair. 

"There's a dragon here raising hell," Dave said, and then turned toward Dirk. "There's a dragon here raising hell?"

Garvey lifted his head. "You don't know?" 

"We're not from around here," Dirk said, and then, "Yes, Dave, apparently there's a fuckin' dragon, that's what I'm trying to figure out. Sir, you wanna give us the lowdown?"

The man looked into the fire, sighed, and nodded his head. Dave glanced around himself, then turned to walk off.

"Dave."

"I'm standing guard. Fill me in later." 

Then he was gone, off to the edge of the caravan. Dirk let him go, taking off his gloves and cracking his knuckles as he let Garvey take his time figuring out what to say. The mayor did indeed take his time, lighting his pipe and shaking his head. Dirk watched smoke spiral up from the bonfire into the thick, dark clouds overhead, and tried not to wonder how much of those clouds was from Phandalin being torched to the ground. 

"What you know about dragons, boy?"

Dirk glanced up. Garvey still wasn't looking at him, eyes focused on the fire. The light cast his face into deep, craggy shadows. 

"Not much," he said. "Don't usually see 'em, over the mountains. We see a lot of wyverns. Trolls. The occasional riverwyrm like you get down here in the valley." He licked his thumb, scrubbing at a spot of purple between the fingers on his other hand. "Know they're big. Fire's usually involved. That's about it."

Garvey laughed. "That's like saying a whale's big and water's involved, boy," he advised. "Dragons ain't anything to mess with. They go around, looting towns, asking for tribute. Burning anyone that doesn't comply. This one, it's the worst we've had since I was a boy. Burns places to the ground even if they give it what it wants. Sometimes it don't even seem to want anything but to burn things down. For the hell of it, I s'pose." 

Dirk raised his head. "It do that here? Burn the place down just because it could?"

Garvey gave a short, stiff nod.

Dirk lifted his waterskin to his lips and took a swallow. He looked up at the sky again, half expecting to see a serpentine shape winding itself between the clouds. "How big we talking, here?" 

"Don't be a damn fucking fool, boy," Garvey said. "You go after that dragon, you'll be dead before you can blink."

"I can handle myself," Dirk said. "And Dave will be with me. It's probably a service to the damn world, if the monster's as bad as you say. Better to get it out of the way so Dave and I don't have to deal with it in the future. Just tell me what I need to know, and we'll take care of it." 

"No."

When Dirk looked at Garvey again, the man was brushing off his knees as he stood up from where he'd been perched beside the fire. He still had his pipe in one hand, but there was a wariness in his face when he met Dirk's eyes.

"I'm not telling you boys shit that's going to get you killed," the man said. "I'm sorry we don't got anything to pay you for the riverwyrms, but I gotta focus on me and mine, now. You two -- head back over the mountains, or further down the valley, or back toward the ocean if you want, but I ain't gonna send you two to your death against Lord English."

"Lord English," Dirk said. "That its name?"

"What we call it, anyway," Garvey said. He took one more puff on his pipe. "Don't go chasing it," he warned. "There ain't no reward in it. Ain't a soul can pay you what it's worth for its head, and it'll have yours before you so much as swing your sword." Then he turned and walked off. 

Dirk let him go. He stayed beside the bonfire, watching the smoke continue spiraling upward, watching the shadows of the night change as the moon dodged in and out of the clouds. The camp was quiet and near-still, a few people wandering from tent to tent with almost no other activity. He pulled his gloves on, then off, then on again. Finally, after -- he guessed -- an hour had passed, he stood, adjusted his still blood-stained cloak, and turned to go find Dave.

His brother stood at the entrance to the encampment that they'd come through originally. 

"So?" he said.

"Big dragon called Lord English," Dirk said. "Mayor ain't telling us shit. Thinks we'll get ourselves killed." 

"To be fucking fair, that sounds not only possible, but pretty damn likely," Dave said. He shook his head. "So, what's the plan? Head further down the valley, see if we can find a few easy picks to make our money back up?" 

"I want to go see Rose." 

"That's doing the opposite of heading further down the valley," Dave said, but hummed as he lifted his waterskin and took a drink. "You thinking of asking her where we should go next?" 

"I'm thinking of asking her where we can find that goddamn dragon." 

There was a long pause. Dirk looked back out at the path they'd come from, the hills between them and the scorched city. A few night birds called to each other, crows and owls, and the hum of insects filled the air. Distantly, he could see fireflies darting between the trees.

"Dude."

Dave, when Dirk turned toward him, had his hands on his hips and an incredulous look on his face. "Is this a deathwish?" he asked. "Do we need to have an intervention? Me and Rose and Roxy all sitting around boo-hooing, Dirk you have a problem, you are just too fuckin' married to your work, why don't you just find a nice guy to settle down with. I can have a tearful letter written in a blink, bro, do not test me." 

"Don't tell me that you don't want to get back at the dragon," Dirk said. "It basically robbed us. Don't you want to get revenge? Or at least make sure that it doesn't fuck with our work again?"

"I'd rather, you know, not fucking die," Dave said. 

"Dragons are sort of known for hoarding treasure," Dirk tried instead. "We kill this thing, we walk away with a hundred times the money we would have gotten for the riverwyrms."

"I don't want to repeat myself, here, but I'd way rather not fucking die."

Dirk shrugged and turned away from the camp, starting off down the road headed away from where Phandalin had once been. "Come on," he said. "We can make it by morning, if we travel all night." 

When he looked back, Dave was looking over his shoulder at the camp. "We could just stay the night," he said. "Garvey would let us. Crash at the fire, get caught up on our Zs. Head out in the morning, get some breakfast grub …"

"Dave," Dirk said.

"Yeah," Dave replied. He turned away from the camp. "You're right. It'd be weird as shit and we'd feel like crap when he comes back out with that look on his face." He started off. Dirk let him go, and then followed, a few paces behind. Ahead of them, the moon rose like a ball of perfect crystal.

* * *

"You want me to do what, exactly?"

Rose sat behind a ball of pure crystal, nursing a cup of tea. Her coiled hair was pulled back from her face by a thin, jeweled hairband. Behind her, a slinky black cat was soundly asleep on one of her many bookshelves.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Dave replied.

"Look, I didn't say you had to come," Dirk replied, defensively. "I can handle a single dragon myself. I bet it's not even that big." 

Rose blinked at the two of them, her lips quirking slightly. "And you came to me about this, rather than Roxy?"

"Roxy's good at city shit," Dirk said. "And robbing stuff. Once I find where the dragon's lair is, you're welcome to send her along to help loot the place, but before then …" He shrugged. "It's like if you asked me to get the dirt on the royal family. It's just not what I fuckin' do." 

"Dragons are also not what we fuckin' do," Dave grumbled. He was slouched in one of Rose's big, fluffy chairs, legs draped over one of the armrests. In his hands, he had one of her books, which he was flipping through seemingly at random. His boots had been kicked off beside him and his socked toes waved in the air. "We do like, goblins. Maybe the occasional kobold. Mindless riverwyrms that are flooding everybody's fields. We don't do -- dragons! Fire and brimstone dragons, Dirk. Actual flying fucking lizards, with hoards and riddles and --"

"Riddles are sphinxes," Rose interrupted seamlessly. 

"Okay, well, whatever dragons have instead of riddles!" Dave flung his arms up, the book still in one hand. "Rose, tell me you're not going to enable him." 

"Hm," Rose said.

"Rose!"

She folded her hands under her chin, her dark lips quirking still further. There was a dancing, almost amused light in her eyes, under her dark mascara and her violet eyeshadow. "Well," she said. "Do tell me, Dirk, what is your plan once you find the wyrm?" 

Dirk found it a lot easier not to wither under Rose's gaze than it was under Roxy's. Accordingly, he shrugged. "The standard," he said. "Sneak in while it's sleeping, stab it, gather some loot and get out of there." 

"And that's it," she quipped.

He furrowed his brow. "Should there be more?"

"Oh, hardly," Rose said. She waved a hand over her crystal; immediately, violet smoke kindled within it. "But I do suspect it might be a little bit more difficult than all that. We've heard of Lord English, or, at least, I have. He's been ravaging the valley for …" She clicked her tongue. "Oh, ten years, perhaps? Since Roxy and I were both very young. I'm shocked you and Dave hadn't heard of him." 

"We got serpents to deal with, out on the coast," Dave grumbled. 

"Dave, please. I'm not holding you accountable for your charming little backwater's lack of reliable news." Rose flicked her fingers upward, and blackness began to spiral within the violet smoke. She leaned toward the crystal, gazing deep into it.

"Rose, I just fucking told you not to encourage him." 

She turned away from the crystal for a moment, giving Dave a sour look. "Tell me, Dave," she said. "Do you _really_ think I could stop him, if he was determined to do this?"

Dave heaved a colossal sigh, but opened the book back up and at least pretended to read. "Fine," he said. "But I'm sure as fuck not going to come along for the ride. Me and Roxy can tear up the town a little. Or maybe I'll go find reasonable work, with like, killing some rats in a basement, or some shit. We're in a city. There's got to be a shitload of people with rat problems." 

Rose completely ignored Dave, turning back to her crystal. She took a single moment to glance up at Dirk, her violet eyes meeting his, before she looked back down.

It was always easy to tell when the sight took her. The violet of her eyes deepened, turned vibrant, and seemed to glow from within. Bright points of white appeared in her pupils as she looked -- into the future, or into the distance, or however she did it. Through time, through space, Dirk had never exactly been sure how it worked. He took some comfort, at least, in the fact that Rose didn't seem exactly sure herself. 

"Hm," she said. Her voice sounded distant and vague. "Lord English." 

"Anything would be fine," Dirk said. "A starting point. Someone to ask for information. Hell, a direction to walk in." 

"Oh no," Rose said, "we can do far better than that, now, can't we? One moment." A thread of green appeared in the smoke, deep as a forest at nightfall. She hummed, tilted her head to one side, and then to the other, and a second thread of green appeared -- this one brighter, closer to emerald. "Oh," Rose said. "I see." 

"Did you find him?" Dirk said. He couldn't help himself, leaning forward, his fingers laced together. 

There was a long pause as Rose seemed to consider the answer. She lifted her fingers away from the ball, and at once, the smoke began to dissipate into nothingness, leaving the crystal empty as before. The white light faded from her pupils, and the vibrancy of her eyes faded into her more customary violet. She met Dirk's eyes again, considering -- something -- for a long moment. He tried not to push her.

"I know where you need to go," she said, at last. She reached down to push the crystal away and collapsed back into her chair. As if she'd called it, the slinky black cat rose from its nap, stretched out its front paws, and then climbed down onto Rose's shoulder, then to her lap. Immediately, it curled into a ball and went right back to sleep. 

"Sweet," Dirk said. "Give me the details." 

"I don't think this is going to be as easy as you're anticipating," Rose said. She stroked the cat with one hand. "In fact, I believe it's going to be quite complicated." 

"I can handle complicated," Dirk said. Dave snorted. 

"Oh, I'm sure you can." There was a wry note to Rose's voice, but before Dirk could try to decipher it, she scooped the cat back onto her shoulder and sat forward. The cat meowed in protest before settling back against her, tucking its head against her neck. "Three days' ride east," she said. "In the midst of the Frostfangs. You'll find a large cavern …" She closed her eyes, her brow furrowing. "With an elephant's skull at the entrance."

"Where has this fucking dragon been, that he's got elephant skulls?" 

"Everywhere, I imagine," Rose said. She didn't open her eyes again. "Do at least go see Roxy before you head out. I'd hate for her to have to hear all of this secondhand." 

"Well," Dave said, and slammed the book shut in a way that was obviously dramatic. "That's something I would actually be happy to come along for."

"Wow, Dave, I'm touched that you're willing to come along with me for such a dangerous task." Dirk reached down for his pack, then thought better of it. He turned back to Rose. "Am I going to be safe?"

"You know that isn't how this works," Rose said. She did open her eyes now. "Even you aren't a very predictable person, Dirk. There are a million choices you could make involving that dragon that will affect whether you come back to us or not." She closed her eyes again, stroking her cat. "I _will_ implore you to consider those choices carefully, but that's the best I can do." 

He shouldn't have expected more, he knew. Dirk let out a sigh, but pulled his bag off the floor and onto his shoulder as he stood up. "I'll give you a good cut," he said.

Rose's lips quirked. "I should certainly hope so." She opened her eyes as Dave climbed to his own feet, working to tug his boots back on. "Tell Roxy I said hello," she said. "And that those of us up here in the daylight parts of town would like to see her once in a while." 

"Wow, passive aggressive much?" Dave said with no venom. 

"Yes, precisely," Rose replied. "Do be careful, Dirk. I don't think you quite realize what it is you're getting into." 

"I really, honestly, know exactly what I'm getting into," Dirk said.

The streets got narrower as Dirk and Dave made their way from Rose's shop into the shadier parts of the city. Dirk adjusted his bag to keep a hand on it as they walked. Ahead of them, a few children scattered into the alleys on either side of the street. Even beyond them, Dirk could see shadows clinging to the doorways and windows. It was best to just keep walking. 

"Next time we come here I'm just going to dump my purse all over the street and I'll still lose less money," Dave said.

"Don't tell me you've been pickpocketed already." 

"No, but you and I both fuckin' know that's what's going to happen. I swear I've got a damn target on me every time we go to see Roxy. Maybe she stuck a sign to my back. 'Easy pickings.' Or just, you know, 'Rob me.' It sounds like something up her alley. She's totally up for playing me for a fool like that. When we get to her place I'm going to check in the mirror. Shit, Dirk, but what if that's her plan? Maybe she swipes it off my back when we visit and puts it back when we leave -- "

"Just keep your hand on your purse." 

"Maybe I should just put my bag in your bag. You never get robbed."

"Because I keep my hand on my fuckin' purse, Dave, quit whining." 

"Yeah, Dave," a woman's voice chirped in, "quit whining."

Dirk didn't even bother to look up as Roxy leapt down from, he suspected, a clothesline overhead. She was clad in tight, dark clothing, with her bouncy blonde curls pinned back. She pulled herself back to her full height, grinning at the two of them and putting her hands on her hips. 

"Y'all are loud as hell!" she announced, almost cheerfully. "Not a wonder people keep robbing you, Dave, when you're too busy babbling to pay any attention."

"Hey, fuck off," Dave said. Roxy immediately leaned forward and pinched his cheek. He didn't even try to pull away. "It's hardly my fault everybody wants a piece of this, even if that piece is some of my money. I'm irresistible." His voice was slightly distorted by Roxy's firm grip on his cheek. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Roxy said, and released his cheek. "Come on, boys, we'll get the two of you back to my place and you can tell me why you're in my neck of the woods."

"Oh, we can't just visit?" Dirk followed as she skipped off a few steps ahead before turning to face the two of them, walking backward and still navigating the uneven cobbles with ease.

"You _can,_ " she replied. "But you don't and we all know that! Too busy off killin' river rats or whatever the hell it was this time."

"Riverwyrms," Dirk corrected. 

"Whatever. And before that it was goblins out in the woods, giant spiders _also_ in the woods, who can keep track of it all, Dirk?" She glanced over one shoulder, then kept walking backwards, though she pivoted on one heel. Dirk and Dave followed dutifully. "A girl starts to think maybe you don't like her!" 

"I like you," Dave said.

"Oh, don't worry Dave. I don't worry about you. I know you're always up to chill with your best babe." Roxy did turn fully around, this time. She then immediately took a tight turn. "But y'all only ever come by to say hello when you're about to head out again, you know that. And I'm not stupid, neither. So hit me with it." She fumbled with a ring full of keys before a door that had a fairly complicated-looking lock. "Tell me what dumb bullshit you two are up to so I can sigh and shake my head and click my tongue and then go gossip with Rose about it." 

"Well," Dave said as Roxy wrangled the lock, "it's not the two of us, for one thing."

She gave him a startled look as the lock clicked and the door swung open. "There ain't a damn thing you two do apart," she countered. "You wanna explain what's different this time?"

"Dragons, is what," Dave said before Dirk could attempt to soften the blow. 

Roxy's eyes went even wider, but she didn't say anything -- just stepped out of the way of the door and waved them in. Dave ducked in immediately. Dirk paused for a moment, searching Roxy's face, but she was completely unreadable. She waved her hand forward, glancing down the street, and he finally took the cue.

Roxy's flat didn't have the same warmth or overhead skylights as Rose's, but it did share the tremendous number of bookshelves full of novels, knick-knacks, and even a sleeping black cat. Colorful drapes hung from the rafters, pinned from corner to corner. There was a small table in the middle of the flat with mismatched chairs circling it, and Dave was already sitting in one. The place was serviceable and quirky compared with Rose's lush elegance, but Dirk found it more comfortable in a way.

The instant Dirk lowered himself into one of the chairs, Roxy yanked the door shut and stomped over to the two of them. She didn't sit down, instead leaning over the table and bracing herself on both hands. "Which one of you dumbfucks got it into your head to try and go after Lord English?" 

Dave didn't say a word, but shot Dirk a little lopsided smile that made Dirk feel like the question wasn't really much of one at all. "What makes you so sure it's Lord English?" he asked, instead of answering directly.

Roxy met his eyes, then made a dramatic show of rolling her own. "Dirk. Fuckin' spare me. Do I look like I was born yesterday?" When he didn't answer, she leaned back and spread her arms. "Well?" she demanded. "Do I look stupid? Gee, Dirk's got it in his stupid thick noggin to go after a dragon and there just happens to be a dragon that's been raising hell around here for ten years! What a _freakin'_ coincidence!" She dropped her arms to her sides. "At least tell me Rose didn't humor your shit." 

"Bad news," Dave interrupted before Dirk could reply. 

"Wow! I'm going to go rip her a new asshole!" Roxy said cheerfully before she finally dropped into one of the chairs. "Okay," she said. "Okay, okay." She made a show of taking a deep breath, letting it out, and relaxing her shoulders. "Walk me on through this. Give me your bizarro thought process. Maybe I can get you to see some fuckin' sense." 

"Okay," Dirk said, and leaned forward. Dave, meanwhile, folded his arms and leaned back, grinning widely. "So me and Dave. Out killing riverwyrms, north of Phandalin. You know Phandalin, right?" 

"No, Dirk, it's not like knowing shit is my job or anything," Roxy said, again rolling her eyes.

"Right," he continued, "good. So anyway, we come back, ready to get paid, and the town is gone. Wiped right off the map, courtesy of one big, green, and scaly." 

"Not all dragons are green," Roxy said. Now she had folded her arms and was tapping one finger against her other elbow. 

"But English is, right?"

"Yeah."

"Right, so big, green, and scaly." He shrugged. "Mayor told us the short facts, I came back here to get information from Rose, she ponied up, and I'm heading out probably in the morning." 

"You are making going to fight a fuckin' dragon out like you're going next door to get a cup of sugar," Roxy said, but turned her attention to Dave. Dirk did the same, and Dave glanced from one of them to the other, the smile falling slowly off his cheeks. "So why aren't you goin' along to keep an eye on him?"

"Yeah, Dave," Dirk chipped in. 

"You be quiet," Roxy said. "I'm not done with you, yet." Dirk started to protest, but she shot him a withering look and he cooperatively kept his mouth shut, instead. "You think that Dirk can handle this on his own?" 

Dave hesitated. "I really, really don't want anything to do with trying to kill dragons," he said. Roxy started to answer, but he kept going. "And I don't think Rose would have given him any information if she was sure he was gonna get himself killed. Like, I know, I know, she always says that ain't how it works, but I'm not sure she's not just bullshitting to sound more mystical about it, if you get me."

Roxy's head tilted one way, then the other, and she sighed. "She would," she said. She reached back and started pulling bobby pins out of her hair, letting the tight coils spring free. "I hate to admit it, but you're probably right that if she got so much as a sniff of Dirk's life being in danger, she would have told him to fuck right off." 

"Maybe Rose knows I can handle myself." 

Roxy and Dave both turned to look at Dirk, and then turned back to each other. 

"Anyway," Roxy continued. "Let me see if I have something that can help." She put a handful of pins down onto the table, then turned in an instant and vanished down the hall. 

"You know," Dirk said, quietly, hoping Roxy couldn't hear, "there's still time to change your mind and come along. You'll get a bigger cut if you do."

"Go fuck yourself," Dave said, cheerily, at completely normal volume. 

"I don't know what you just said, Dirk, but go fuck yourself!" Roxy echoed from wherever she was down the hallway.

"Thanks for the support, Rox," Dirk called back.

She was only gone for another few moments before she bounced back down the hall, something clenched in her fist and another something under her other arm. She sprang back into her chair, then slammed her hand down on the table in front of Dirk. When she pulled her hand back, there was a pink, smoky gem in front of him. "You smash that thing, and I'll know you're in the deep shit," Roxy said. "I can't promise to save your punk ass -- I can't fuckin' teleport, Dirk -- but I can at least rush to your rescue if you can hide out for a little while."

"I'm not going to need it," Dirk said, but took it in hand anyway, slipping it down into his bag.

"You might," she said. "You swear you're gonna break it if things get hairy?" 

"Cross my heart," he said. "I might also break it just to get you to help me haul some of the treasure home once I'm done killing the thing." 

She punched him in the shoulder. He let out a grunt, pretending injury and rubbing at the spot she'd hit. 

"Baby," Roxy chided.

"That's me," he said.

She wasted no time in tugging the other bundle out from under her arm and sliding it across the table to him. "I got a few of these," she said. "Supposedly they're all connected, but I figure this is as good a test run as any."

He pushed back the cloth the bundle was in to find four simple, leather-bound books. The covers seemed to be blank, with pieces of twine holding the volumes shut. He tugged the knot on the top one open as he took it into his hands, but when he pulled the cover back, the pages inside were blank. There was a single stick of what seemed to be charcoal tucked into the binding, but when Dirk took it into his fingers, it didn't leave any dust behind.

"A journal?" he asked.

"Sorta," Roxy said. She pushed the rumpled cloth away, picking up the other three books. She tossed one across the table to Dave, who nearly dropped it. Another one, she flipped open and pulled out a similar stick of charcoal. "Watch this," she said, giving Dirk a trademark eyebrow-waggle, and started writing.

Dirk watched her, perplexed. "It's a book," he said. She just raised a hand and pointed a finger at him. "What?" he demanded, and she wagged her finger. At him. No -- at the book. 

He looked down.

hi dirk!!!!  
LOOK DOWN HERE IM WRITING TO YOU DOOFUS  
no at your book dumbfuck  
pay attention there you go 

"Wow," Dirk said. "What the fuck." 

"Some kinda magic talky journals," Roxy said, leaning back and putting her feet up on the table. "Pinched 'em from some elves in town a few weeks ago. You know elves, they got so much magic shit they can't tell if they lose anything, and even if they can tell it's not like they freakin' care. So I been keeping them tucked away for a rainy day, and shit if it didn't just start thundering out."

"Barely a damn drizzle," Dirk said, but tucked the book into his pouch as well. "What's the goal for this one, just pop in to say hey y'all, I'm not dead yet?"

"'Zactly," Roxy said. "You got a problem with that, pal? Your brother and your best friends might like to know that you're alive and frickin' well, out there hunting dragons ten times your size. And hell, look at it from your side. You can keep an eye on Dave and make sure he ain't just laying around doing jack-all." 

"I never just lay around and do jack-all," Dave protested.

Roxy just turned to give him a look. Dave shrunk under it.

"I'll try and keep him on the ball," Roxy said as she turned back toward Dirk. "Fuck knows I hear about all kinds of jobs I could go along for, even. You don't gotta worry a bit about things. I'll look after him."

Dave made a halfhearted sound of protest, but all three of them knew it wasn't sincere. 

"Thanks, Rox," Dirk said. "I'll let you know as soon as I've got the thing dealt with, how's that?"

"You better let me know before then, too," Roxy said. She stretched out. "I'll give the other book to Rose, as well as a good frickin' slap for enabling you. You up for a rager tonight, at least? We gotta have a big ol' sendoff party. Drinks and crap."

Dave shot Dirk a look. It was a look that Dirk had come to think of as Dave's puppy eyes, with his lip poked out in just a slight pout. He'd learned it from Roxy, but he had even more raw talent at looking pitiable than she did. 

"Alright," he allowed. "All right, all right, whatever. The dragon's not going to go anywhere. I wasn't planning to leave until tomorrow, anyway."

"Yes!" Roxy shouted, flinging her arms up. "Hell fucking yes!" She held a hand out to Dave, who reached out to give her a high five. Then turned to extend her other arm to Dirk who, obligingly, high-fived her as well.

* * *

Dirk had managed to avoid Roxy's best attempt to delay him with a morning hangover, though as he climbed out of bed and left his brother snoring in bed, he suspected Dave wouldn't be so lucky. He pulled himself down the ladder from Roxy's loft, trying to move quietly as he looked over and saw her curled into a ball in a nest of pillows and blankets near the wall. Rose, he suspected, was also over there somewhere.

"Good morning."

Or, she was at the table. She had a mug cupped between her hands, and one of Roxy's helpful journals sat on the table before her. Somehow, despite almost definitely having woken up an hour ago or less, she looked perfectly presentable, aside from still being in a flowing violet nightgown. 

"Bright and early, isn't it?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder toward one of the narrow windows. There was a wan, grey light outside -- just before dawn.

"Well, I've got a long trip up into the Frostfangs, don't I?" Dirk said. Rose nodded and gestured to where another mug was sitting on the table. Dirk gratefully sat down opposite her, taking a long drink. Black coffee, exactly how he liked it, and still piping hot. He swallowed, let out a breath, and looked back up at Rose. "Not going to try to talk me out of it?"

"If I was interested in talking you out of it, why would I have told you where to go in the first place?" Rose peered at him over the rim of her mug. "Roxy and Dave are both very concerned about you," she said. 

"I'll be fine."

"I absolutely believe that's true," Rose said, "but I'd like it if you could take the two of them a bit more seriously."

It was a fair criticism. Fair enough that Dirk felt himself cringe, shrugging one shoulder and turning his attention back to his coffee. "I just don't want them to stress about it," he said.

"I know," Rose replied. A long moment hung between them as they both nursed their coffee. Dirk watched Rose slide her eyes over to where her sister slept. Accordingly, he turned to glance up at the loft, but he couldn't see Dave from here. "This is going to change things," Rose added at last. "For all of us, I think."

That was new. Dirk turned back around, furrowing his brow. "How so?" 

She didn't answer, taking another drink of her coffee. When she was done, she sighed. "I don't see details," she said. "I've told you that. Dozens of times, I believe. But I know that whatever happens here is going to … shift things. And not just for you, or even for you and Dave. For all of us. I'm simply not quite sure how." She closed her eyes, humming. "I see … strands," she said, distantly. "In a dozen different directions, and all of them splitting off from the cord that we've been bound to all our lives up through this moment." Then she opened her eyes again. Dirk could see, for a moment, vivid light fading from her irises. She focused on him. "Do your best not to make any stupid decisions."

"Always do."

"Now that, I'm not so sure about." 

He chuckled, finishing off his coffee. "Alright, well," he said, "maybe not always." Rose smiled at him as he climbed back to his feet, picking up his bag from off the floor. "But this time for sure," he said. 

"Be careful," she said. She seemed satisfied with that, nursing her mug and watching as he headed for the door. 

"Dirk," she said as he opened it. He turned back. "Trust your instincts," she said. "And come back to us safely." 

"Absolutely," he said. "Don't let Roxy and Dave get in too much trouble." 

"Absolutely," she echoed.

He stepped outside, letting the door shut behind him. The pre-dawn grey overhead was starting to cast pink and light blue. He looked up, took a deep breath, and began to walk.

* * *

so hows it going  
There's nothing to talk about so far.  
It's just a fuckin' horse trail, Rox. I loaned a horse from the stable in town. She's a sweetheart. I like her.  
But besides that, it's not like anything exciting is going on.   
aw come on theres gotta be something  
even just like hey roxy saw a rock shaped like a dick today  
the locals call it fertility rock and do dances around it every solstice  
What locals?  
Nobody lives out this way. Maybe on account of the fuckin' dragons.  
and yet youre still headed up there  
Sure am.  
sign  
"Sigh."   
siiiiign  
dirk is it my fault it thinks my h is an n  
Yes, probably.  
Also, I'm not convinced you didn't misspell it deliberately.  
SIGN  
See, putting it in all caps just confirms you did it on purpose.   
ns and hs dont look that different even in uppers  
H  
N  
see?  
This is a very constructive conversation we're having, here. I'm very glad we're talking about this.  
how the hell else you gonna pass the time  
we all know there aint nobody youd rather be magic journalin with than me  
That is, oddly enough, true.  
aw  
flatterer  
I do try.  
You keeping Dave in line?  
its been less than a day dirk maybe hes just lyin around crying his eyes out that you aint here  
More like, he's throwing a party.   
well  
Oh, come on. I was being sarcastic.   
no no i wouldnt say a party!  
but he is slackin off a bit  
id hound him about it but every time i try he gives me those big ol sad eyes  
oh rox what if hes out there dyin right now  
obviously he doesnt actually believe ur dyin but he sure is good at milking it for pity  
Don't let him fool you.  
Tell him if I get back and he hasn't done any fuckin' work, he's gonna be in deep shit.   
he says to give you the eyes for him so pretend im doin that  
Give him the middle finger for me.  
laugh my ass off  
with pleasure

* * *

happy day two  
anything exciting happen yet  
rose is acting all like she can see exactly where you are by the way shes all like  
oh dave theres a mountain that looks like a dick in the distance  
dave tell me how much you wanna fuck the mountaindick  
dave have you ever had prophetic dreams about dick mountain  
tell me all about them  
i think shes probably messing with me what do you think  
Oh, without a doubt.  
I don't know if you really needed me to tell you that though.  
nah not really but it got your attention didnt it  
It's not like that's super hard to do right now.   
You found work yet?  
im looking into some shit  
theres some postings for some shit just out of town  
you know the standard  
goblins ransacking somebodys grain  
rats of unusual size  
theres a real promising one about an ogre causing trouble out in the woods though i think that sounds up my alley  
ogres are easy to deal with theyre so dumb  
anyway got any sign of the dragon  
No.  
That's okay, though. You read about dragons and everything says they like to take long naps after they do their rampaging.  
Especially if eating is involved, and I figure, English probably chowed down on a few sheep and cows while he was torching the town.  
Hopefully I'll find the bastard while he's still sleeping it off.  
i sure fuckin hope so  
by the way i told rose you said that and she is making the smuggest fuckin look right now and im not even sure why  
Hm.   
Me neither.   
shes not telling  
Well, I'm sure she'll hold whatever it is over the both of us later.   
I'd like to at least hope that she's not making a smug face about my possibly-impending death.  
holy shit call the queen dirk admitted hes mortal  
this is a national goddamn holiday  
close the schools and the banks  
plan a parade  
ticker tape and marching musicians and elephants and shit  
I'm going to be fine.  
sure  
Look into that thing with the ogre. You're right about them being dumb.   
And people usually pay well for that sort of thing.  
wow dirk real smooth changing the subject there  
made me completely forget that youre putting your life on the line and shit up there in dragontown  
whoops nope nevermind i just remembered  
Stop worrying so much.  
The minute anything goes wrong, Rose will know, and like hell she won't say something to you and Roxy.  
And that's without even mentioning that rock Roxy gave me, either.  
yeah like  
theoretically and all i know that  
but im still just worried you know  
Yeah.  
I know.  
I'll be fine.  
i sure fuckin hope so

* * *

You must be getting close now.  
Good morning, Rose.   
Good morning, Dirk.  
I assume you still have seen no sign of your quarry.  
No, but I assume you're making a smug face about that fact, for some reason, based on what Dave said yesterday.  
Why, Dirk.  
When have I ever been smug in my life?  
Let me count the ways.  
That won't be necessary.  
Are you at least going to ask me about penis-shaped mountains? That seems to be a trend with y'all of late.  
And no, I have not seen one.   
Perhaps you just weren't looking closely enough.  
I mean, I am a little bit distracted.   
True.   
I do have it on good authority that there is a dick-shaped rock up in them thar hills, however.  
Rose.  
What do you want.  
I don't have much to say, to be honest.   
Dave is leaving today to look into that job the two of you were talking about. Roxy and I are having breakfast, and I just thought it might finally be my turn to ascertain how well these magical books work.  
The answer, by the by, appears to be "quite."   
This is going to sound really assholish, but did you actually start talking to me for any real reason, or just to shoot the shit?  
Hm, I suppose it's the former, much as I do enjoy you haranguing me about whether I'm just here to be an annoyance.  
I do feel the need to remind you that I can't control how these visions of mine manifest, before you decide to get smart about it.  
That said, I have a bit of advice.  
Don't breathe too deep.  
… What?  
Is that supposed to be like, a "don't hold your breath" sort of thing? Is that the advice?  
That's the advice.   
What the fuck does it mean?  
I haven't the foggiest.  
Do you really, or are you just bullshitting to sound more mystical again?   
Why, how coincidental. I haven't the foggiest as to that, either.  
God, sometimes I wonder why I even bother.   
You should find that cave around nightfall.  
There. See? Helpful, specific advice.  
You're welcome.  
Yeah, alright. Thanks.  
Sorry for being short.  
No offense taken.  
And once again, Dirk.   
Do be careful.

* * *

The cave, when he found it, was more than twice the size he'd anticipated it. There was, indeed, an elephant skull, one tusk broken halfway down, lodged just inside the cave entrance. It was covered in moss and slowly decaying, to the degree that Dirk had barely recognized it. The entrance itself was more cavern than anything, deep and swallowing the light from Dirk's torch with ease. He took a set of steps into the cave, but it didn't seem to help much at all. Long, strange stalactites cast deep, dark shadows into the cavern, and Dirk knew he had no choice but to keep walking. He glanced back at the horse, peacefully grazing with no apparent knowledge of the elephant skull ten feet into the cavern, and then he took a deep breath as he started walking.

What seemed to be one cave turned into a network of them, slotting into one another like pieces of a puzzle, each one somehow even larger than the last. Dirk was aware of a continued downward slope as he forged further into the caverns, but even then, some of the ones he walked through seemed, themselves, to be the size of entire mountains. There were more skulls littering the caverns as he walked forward, progressively growing in numbers and shrinking in size. Dirk didn't see any other elephant skulls, but he did see bears, wolves, and something he suspected was some kind of big cat. There was nothing else of the corpses -- just the skulls. Did English keep them around as prizes? Trophies of his successful hunts? 

He was, at least, glad that he didn't see any human skulls. Yet.

The cavern tightened for a moment, then opened into the widest chamber of all. Here, there was a bonfire burning in the center of the cave, casting golden light onto everything. Dirk lifted his torch, scanning the room. There was a set of tapestries strung haphazardly around one wall of the cavern, hung precariously from cracks in the rock. A long natural rock shelf curved around the wall below the tapestries, full of more animal skulls. There was, oddly enough, not an apparent coin in the whole place. Dirk might not have ever hunted down a dragon before, but he was pretty sure that an interest in treasure was a feature of the species. There was, however, what looked like a rounded lump of green, mossy earth against the wall, trails of ivy poking out of it. It was an odd decoration for what seemed to be a dragon's lair, but given the oddness of everything else about this dragon, Dirk decided there was probably a logic to it he couldn't understand. He kept surveying the chamber. There were shelves full of books, overflowing into stacks of tomes on the floor. Fine silk scarves and furs heaped in mismatched piles. Bronze and gold statues strewn throughout the cavern, in odd places and at strange angles. An oversized globe, slightly off its axis, beside one of the bookshelves. Several thick, luscious carpets, probably from overseas.

Rose hadn't been kidding when she said she suspected this dragon had been everywhere.

It must have woken up recently after all. Maybe Dirk had wandered into its cavern when it was out hunting, eating its fill after toasting Phandalin to ashes. He could come up with some sort of trap to lay for it. Maybe he could even use some of the things in here. There might not have been gold, but there was a collection of what looked like crystals -- big ones -- along the tops of the bookshelves and between the animal skulls. There might be weapons in here. Or he could just lie in wait, tuck himself go behind one of those tapestries or next to that weird patch of green earth until Lord English returned and slept off his meal. 

"Hello?" he called into the cavern.

Which, in retrospect, he should have known better than to do.

Several things happened all at once. The green mossy lump of earth reared up and spread wings at least three times as big as it was. A rumble sounded, shaking the cave below Dirk's feet. He threw himself to the side of the cave, clinging to a stalagmite sprouting up from the earth. He peered out from the stalagmite to see the lump of earth shake its wings out and raise a scaly, long head, blinking open sharp, emerald-colored eyes. 

"Hell and heavens to Betsy!" a voice said, and an instant later, the creature -- the _dragon_ \-- opened its mouth and spat a cloud of sparkling, thick black smoke. The bonfire in the middle of the room went out, smothered by the smoke, and Dirk spun back behind the stalagmite as he strained to see in the newly present darkness. He could hear the dragon beating its wings, and he could accordingly feel gusts of air brushing past his legs as he tried to keep quiet. He reached back to pull his sword off his back, wincing at the loud, metallic noise it made as he unsheathed it. He blinked, peeking out from behind his shelter again to see that now, at least, he could make out the shapes of the globe, the bookshelves, and a great, moving shape near the wall. 

He stepped out, sword in hand, trying to gauge the movements of the dragon. It was hard to tell in the darkness and through the smoke how far away it was. He took a deep breath, frowning at the way he felt the thick smoke filter in along with the air. He let out a heavy, hacking cough. Instantly, he watched the dragon lash around, fixing him with one glowing green eye. 

_Don't breathe too deep._

He remembered Rose's cryptic advice halfway through another breath, and brought one hand up to cover his mouth. But it was too late. He let out another hacking cough, feeling his head begin to spin. There was a burning, stinging sensation in his lungs, inching its way up his neck into his brain. Poison, probably. Dragons could be poisonous, he was pretty sure. He hacked out another cough, but the bad news there was that it meant he had to take another breath. His lungs rebelled -- and so did his hand, going limp and letting his sword fall to the cave floor with a loud metallic clang. Alright, so, maybe nerve damage of some kind. But even as he tried to catalogue all the things going wrong, his brain started to go fuzzy with the smoke. He fell back against the stalagmite, trying to keep himself upright. If he fell, then he'd just be getting all smoke, all the time. But with every cough it became harder to keep upright.

"Shit on a stick," said that same voice, "I've really mucked this one up! Leave it to me to whip everything right on out of shape!" There was a burst of light. For an instant, Dirk became convinced that it was aimed at him and he was about to become crispy-fried dragon dinner, but instead, the fire that had been in the middle of the cave lit once again under the spray of flame. 

Before him stood a dragon.

It wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected horns and spines and a distinctly nasty expression. The dragon did have large, sharp teeth, but it had structures around its face more like fins than horns, draped with moss and ivy and, strangely enough, colorful flowers. Its slit-pupiled, deep green eyes peered down at him as its wings flapped, just once.

The gust knocked him down onto the floor. It also blew most of the smoke away, and Dirk heaved in a breath. There was still a smoky, heady element to the air, but he at least felt like he wasn't burning up from the inside, now, and he fumbled one nerveless finger to the side to try and find his sword. The dragon watched him move the same way a child might watch an insect caught in a jar. 

"I've really gone and buggered it this time, haven't I?" it asked. Dirk realized that voice he'd been hearing had belonged to the dragon. It was speaking to him. He could see its long, white teeth. They were definitely at least half his size. He was beginning to realize maybe he had indeed gotten in over his head. Wouldn't Rose and Roxy enjoy that news? If he lived to share it. He gave up on his sword and started rummaging through his bag instead, looking for Roxy's pink crystal. "I say, are you all copacetic down there?"

Dirk wasn't sure whether he should answer, but he took a breath to do so. Unfortunately, he got another long inhale of that sparkling, strange smoke as he did, and let out another hacking fit, yanking his free arm back up to his mouth. Immediately, he couldn't remember what he'd just been looking for. Mental damage, a small corner of his mind noted, almost clinically. Maybe his body was shutting down. It'd make sense, for a poison. 

"Oh, what am I saying, of course you're not friggin' copacetic," the dragon said. It whipped a long tail behind it, looking thoroughly perturbed. There were ferns and vines draped off the scales there, as if they were growing out of it. "Well! I hope you can accept my sorries and mea culpas there, buddy-o, I promise I honestly didn't mean to set up a snafu like this! Can you raise your hand if you can hear me?"

Dirk managed, through his increasing mental fog, to give the creature an incredulous look. Then he started coughing again.

"Hm, right, maybe you can't do that right now," the dragon said. "Blink twice, maybe?" 

A thought waded in through the haze. His sword. If he could get his hands on his sword, maybe he could at least defend himself from whatever the dragon threw at him next. He rolled over, one hand still clapped to his mouth, and reached for his blade.

The dragon intercepted him first. It scooped him up in one -- paw? talon? -- and pulled him up toward its face, his sword left abandoned on the ground. 

"I really didn't mean for things to get this sour, boyo," the dragon said. It sounded genuinely apologetic. Dirk could see his reflection in one of its giant, catlike pupils. "But there's no need for you to try and defend yourself from me! I wouldn't harm a fly, really. And since I'm the one who's got you all off-kilter like this, I suppose it's up to me to get you back on the up-and-up. Isn't that right?" 

He didn't want to answer that one. He let out another cough anyway. He couldn't push himself up. His muscles wouldn't respond. Partial paralysis, that same part of his mind noted, like it was watching him from afar. 

"Don't you worry about a thing, then," the dragon said. He suspected the way it pulled its mouth back was intended to be a smile. It had a conspicuous gap in the row of its front -- razor-sharp, gigantic -- teeth. "You just rest your weary head. I'll get you all taken care of and you'll be feeling right as rain in two shakes!" Its nostrils flared, and Dirk could see that same dark, glittering smoke building.

"Lord English," he croaked, attempting a challenge. His voice came out hoarse and uneven and gasping.

"No, no," the dragon said, "you don't have to fret a bit about him, either." It exhaled, and the smoke washed over Dirk as smoothly and surely as a tide. He tried not to breathe, but the smoke washed up into his nose, heavy and solid and overwhelming, and his vision slowly prickled out, bit by bit, until the world was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at [@stormsbourne!](http://stormsbourne.tumblr.com/)


	2. Chapter 2

Consciousness faded back in like a candle illuminating a room. The corners of Dirk's mind slowly came into focus, and as they did, Dirk wandered back to waking. 

He was laying on something almost obscenely soft, with something even softer draped over him. For a long moment, he thought he was still asleep in Roxy's small, lowtown apartment. He stayed where he was for a long moment, debating letting himself fall back asleep. 

What tipped him off was the lack of noise. Lowtown was usually full of noise at all hours, but especially in the morning, as vendors opened their stalls and children crowded the streets. Here, there was no sound at all -- not even the distant sound of morning crows, or, as he might have expected in Rose's hightown flat, the chirps of sparrows and robins. 

That was when he remembered what had happened.

The dragon, the sparkling black smoke, his own body rebelling against him nerve by nerve and muscle by muscle. The dragon's gigantic, sharp green eyes. And, of course, its sharp white teeth.

He opened his eyes.

Around him, the dragon cave was unchanged. He was, perhaps, in a different part of it, though he still recognized the bookshelves and the askew globe. It was impossible to tell how the hours had passed; the only light in the chamber was the still-blazing fire in the center of the cavern, merrily crackling away. The dragon -- which he'd stupidly mistaken for some kind of, what, decorative moss lump? -- was nowhere to be seen, but it was easy for Dirk to see that the network of caverns continued further into the mountain, and it was likely that it had just swanned off deeper into the maze. 

Why was he still alive?

He tried to fathom that question as he took stock of what he was laying on -- a stack of pillows he imagined were full of down, with what seemed to be an especially large fur of some kind draped over him. Maybe somebody had come along and found him in the dragon's grip and saved him, somehow. Maybe someone else was hunting this monster and Dirk had stumbled into someone else's hunt territory. 

None of this made any sense.

He tried to sit up. His muscles protested, pulling tight and aching with the motion, but despite the pain of it, he managed to push himself upright. He was still fully clothed, though someone had removed his armor and his bag was nowhere in sight.

What was in sight was someone sitting near the fire, their back to him, fiddling with what appeared to be some kind of pot. In the dim light of the cave, Dirk couldn't make out much -- dark skin and hair, some kind of loose green robe over their shoulders.

He fought the numbness in his fingers and the way every motion felt like it was ripping something inside of him, managing to push the fur off of him and climb off the -- ridiculously sized, he noted -- pile of pillows. The cave floor was mostly even, but there were a few patches of moss in all colors of the rainbow, in long patches. The person in front of the fire was sitting at the end of one of those trails, the hem of his robe covering part of it. Dirk walked over the moss, largely because it made his feet hurt a bit less than the bare rock. As he got closer, he realized the pot was steaming and the person was absently humming. 

"Hey," he said, once he got close enough. "Where's the dragon?" 

The person didn't so much as flinch, turning to look at Dirk over his shoulder. He had a very handsome face, with a strong jaw and deep green eyes, the color of emeralds, behind a pair of thick-rimmed spectacles made of what looked like twisted wood. There was a pink flower pinned behind one of his ears, which were pierced with stones to match his eyes. His dark hair swept across his forehead in what was almost a cowlick, and he flashed Dirk a wide smile that was perfect but for the gap between his front two teeth. 

"Howdy, there!" he said, in a cheerful voice that Dirk could swear he had heard somewhere before. "Glad to see you're up and at 'em. Though, I must say, bucko, I'm shocked that you're moving! That smoke can't have left you hitting on all eight." The man turned back to the pot, which smelled something close to heavenly. "I'm making us a spot of noodle juice. Or me, at least, though I should hope you know you're welcome to it!" 

"Uh," Dirk said. None of that had answered his question -- and some of it didn't even make sense -- but he couldn't exactly fault the guy for being friendly. And he probably owed this dude a lot, since he'd presumably saved Dirk's life. He could, at least, gather from the smell that "noodle juice" apparently meant tea. "Sure?" 

"Spiffing!" the man said. "Have yourself a seat, then! Chewing the fat sounds like absolutely the gnat's whistle, don't you think?"

There was nowhere to sit around the fire. The man in the robe was sitting cross-legged, but Dirk felt like if he tried to do that, he might just collapse onto the floor and never get back up again. Even standing was making his legs protest, but sitting like that seemed infinitely worse.

"Oh," the man said, and when Dirk looked down, he was glancing around the fire. "Boy, am I sorry about that. Give me two shakes! You stay right here and I'll get one of those pillows for you to plop down on, I bet that'll do 'er." Dirk started to open his mouth to protest, but the man was already off like a shot, in the opposite direction Dirk had come from. He vanished behind one of the bookshelves, nearly tripping over the long hem of one of the tapestries as he scampered off. Dirk watched him vanish, musing on somebody so clumsy might have been able to either kill or at least scare off a dragon ten times his size. Maybe he was a mage, or some kind of druid. The flower by his ear did sort of suggest that sort of nature-loving nonsense. He wasn't sure what exactly a druid could do to a dragon, but then again, he didn't really pay attention to the sorts of shit druids did in general. Maybe it had just asked the dragon, nicely, to leave, and some sort of nature-bond woowoo shit had compelled it to do so.

The man came back, carrying a pillow nearly the same size he was, and dropped it beside the fire. "There you go!" he said, putting his hands on his hips and looking triumphant. He didn't appear to be wearing anything underneath his robe, though it was at least belted tight. He gestured to the pillow and then performed an overly-elaborate bow. "Your throne awaits!" 

"Thanks," Dirk said, bemused, and limped over to it to lower himself onto it. At once, his aching muscles eased their protests. The man grinned at him, then returned to stirring the pot. "So, this supposed to be some kind of like, magical healing tea, or some shit?"

Now the man shot him a befuddled look. "Magical healing tea? I don't have the wherewithal for anything so high-falutin! I'm just a normal bloke, you know. Completely regular! It's just your standard ol' herbs and such. It might make you feel a bit more aces than deuces, but it won't fix any of your aches! I'm afraid only time's going to do anything for that."

"Right," Dirk said, "well, we better get somewhere safe, then, so I can get on the mend. It's a long way down the mountain, but I've got a horse out there, and I can probably ride for a few hours without my back making me literally want to fuckin' die. There's got to be an inn somewhere near there. It's a mountain, there's miners and shit, right?" 

The man's befuddled look didn't abate. "This is a safe place, if I know my onions!" he said. "I've checked over the lot and there's not a thing that could hurt you. There's plenty of nice soft spots for you to hit the hay, and I should be able to keep the both of us fed!"

"Right," Dirk said, trying to sit up and forward a bit. Unfortunately, the pillow just seemed to swallow him more. "That circles us back around to my first question. What about that dragon?" 

"Well!" the man said. "Don't you fret a mite about that. I've seen to it." 

That was a woefully inadequate explanation, but before Dirk could open his mouth to protest, the man cut him off. "Tea should be ready!" he said, lifting the pot off the fire with a stick. A moment later, he was pushing a steaming cup into Dirk's hands. He was holding a cup of his own as he settled back onto his little puddle of moss, blinking his big green eyes at Dirk. "Tell me about yourself," he said. "What's your name? What brings you all the way up to our little corner of nowhere? The Frostfangs don't get many visitors, you know!" 

"We're sitting in a dragon's cavern," Dirk said, "surrounded by weird antiques and a lot of really big pillows, and you want to make small talk?" 

"Well," the man said. "What else are we supposed to do while you rest up?" 

That was a good enough point. Dirk debated and considered his options, though he didn't risk the tea yet. He didn't especially want to chat with a stranger about the finer points of his life, nor how he'd ended up in the mountains and the dragon he'd _actually_ been looking for. If this druid was really as high on weird nature shit as Dirk suspected, he might resent the idea of Dirk killing one of the gods' creatures, or something. Nobody understood druids. 

But, on the other hand, he did want to know who this guy was, what he'd done to the dragon, and, mostly, where all of Dirk's shit had ended up. He suspected the last of those things wouldn't be too hard to get -- a nice guy like this wasn't likely to be deliberately withholding it -- but the rest might be easier if he loosened the guy up a bit first with conversational foreplay. Gave him a good, hard, communicative boner. 

"Alright," he said, "sure, what can it hurt. I'm Dirk Strider. I'm from -- currently, anyway -- Camorr, down in the valley. I'm an adventurer for hire, but I'm sure you guessed that from my knapsack." 

Instead of piping up about the location of said knapsack, the man just nodded along, taking a sip of his tea. Dirk left another minute of silence hang between them, but either the druid was really bad about taking hints, or Dirk hadn't dropped enough hints. Or he just wanted to keep the pack, for some reason. That was always a possibility. 

"I do the standard shit," he said. "Chasing goblins out of barns, slaying riverwyrms that are flooding villages, the usual. Anyway, I got word that some prey I was looking for was up in these mountains, and I came to try and track it down. Guess I wandered into the wrong cave, what with the dragon."

"Guess so!" the man chirped, and took another drink of tea. He didn't say one word about himself, or about the dragon, or even about any of the monster-hunting which Dirk had thought might piss off a druid. 

Alright, so maybe he wasn't a druid. Maybe he was a mage and had, what, mind-controlled the dragon out of the cave, or turned it into a rat, or something? Rose knew a little bit of magic, even if hers was the fortune-telling kind and not the fuck-around-with-dragons kind. He was pretty sure magic could do that, if the magician was powerful enough. 

"So," Dirk said, trying to get literally anything out of this guy, "What about you?" 

"Well!" the guy said, and sat forward. His eyes sparkled with a frankly strange amount of excitement for shooting the shit. "I'm glad you asked! I'm Jake."

Dirk waited for a last name, but none came. "Jake what?" he asked at last, as the man extended his hand. He attempted to reach forward, but Jake had to get to his feet and walk closer to be able to shake his hand.

"Just Jake!" he said, as he shook Dirk's hand. "Not all of us are gifted with surnames, you know! Especially not out here in the sticks. Us hedgefolk have to get by with what we've got, even if what we've got is just a first name." The handshake went on a little bit too long. Dirk pried his hand away. Jake immediately dropped back to his seated position, only holding his cup with one hand. "I'm up here on business, of course! Gathering herbs and things. That's what I do! And I wandered in here and found you completely down for the count, and, well, I wasn't about to just leave a fellow here to rot!"

There were a lot of weird holes in that story. Dirk suspected they'd been left deliberately for him to fish out so that Jake could spin long stories about every single one. He seemed like a story-spinning sort of guy. Hedge wizards did tend to like talking about their exploits and making the story a little bit more dramatic every time. How dramatic it was likely to be this time would depend on how many people Jake had already told stories to.

So, Dirk picked the one that was guaranteed to be the least dramatic. "What did you do about the dragon?" he said. "There was a dragon here. The one that knocked me out. You said you took care of it?" 

But Jake didn't spin an extravagant story at all. Instead, his skin darkened with a flush and his eyes darted away. "It had already skedaddled when I got here!" he said. "I just, erm, put up a shield on the cave and it definitely can't get back in here until I take it down!"

"That sounds like a fantastic way to piss it off," Dirk said. "What's your plan for when I'm all healed up and we're ready to blow this joint? We just hide, let it back in, and then sneak out while it's making sure we didn't ransack the cave? What's to keep it from just waiting at the entrance until we starve or come running out so it can eat us?" 

"Oh, he won't, though!" Jake said. His pitch was a little bit too high, his tone a little bit too defensive. "That dragon is a right peaceable bloke! I've seen him around here for dog's years. He's never hurt a soul! He'll probably completely grok that we've got to use his cave and would rather not take our chances with him being in here." 

"Even a peaceful human being would get pissed off if you locked them out of their house," Dirk said. He pushed himself forward from the pillow, more successfully this time, even though his limbs protested. "It might not want to hurt us, but it's still going to be angry, and angry dragons can cause a lot of destruction without so much as a blink. There's a whole forest out there all the way along the trail. It sets fire to that, we could see some real shit." He thought for a moment. "Also," he said, "my horse is probably dinner, right now, so. Thanks for that." 

"He wouldn't eat a horse," Jake scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothing!" Jake picked up a stick and poked at the fire, a bit sulkily. "Well, there's shit-all to be done for it now," he said. "That dragon's well and truly locked out and he can't get in until I take the shield back down!" 

Dirk furrowed his brow, chewing on a thought. "So take it down," he said. 

Jake's head snapped up toward him. He didn't say anything, but his eyes were wide. Maybe Dirk was imagining it, but it looked like a flush was climbing his cheeks.

"If it's a peaceful dragon," Dirk said, a bit too slow and deliberate about it, "then it's better to let it in and explain ourselves now. It has its house back, we have our safe place for me to recover, and it won't get pissed off and set fire to the forest."

"Um," Jake said. "I can't exactly just -- " He blinked. His eyes darted away, toward one exit of the cavern. Then back to Dirk. Then away again in the other direction. "It has to stay up for a while!" he said, a bit too quickly. "Don't get me wrong, compadre, I'd love nothing better than to take it down and get up close and personal with our friend the mighty peaceful dragon! But it just can't be done, that's all. It's way too complicated to take it down all at once, it has to, erm, wear itself down like, and then -- "

"How'd you know about the smoke, if you found me here when I was already knocked out?" 

Dirk was pretty sure he wasn't imagining it this time. There was a flush creeping up the man's face, but it was more green than red, turning his dark skin a strangely sickly hue. The flower behind his ear also seemed to be wilting. "Well," he said, his voice shrill, "it wasn't exactly hard to suss out! You laying here all senseless and everybody knows that dragon's got, erm, whatchacallit, paralytic smoke and --"

"Where's my sword," Dirk said. It wasn't a question. He pushed himself off the pillow, managing to pull himself back to his feet despite the ache that seared through his joints at the time. He let the cup drop, spilling hot tea across the cave floor.

"There's no reason for that!" the man said. He trundled to his feet, putting his hands on his hips. His skin was shading distinctly close to his robe in color. "Here I am, helping you recover, making sure you feel all back up to snuff, and you want to throw down the gauntlet! Honestly, mate -- "

"I'm not your friend, dragon," Dirk said, tightly. "Where's my sword." 

The man -- the dragon -- started to puff up defensively, squaring his shoulders and narrowing his eyes behind the twisted wooden frame of his spectacles. The aggressive stance held for a moment, and Dirk prepared himself to strike back against the blow that was doubtless coming. 

Then, the dragon deflated entirely. His shoulders slumped, his gritted teeth gave way to a defeated frown, and he shook his head. The tone of his skin evened back out into the brown it had been before he'd gotten flustered. The pink flower seemed to return to full life, petals plumping and unfurling. 

"I really was hoping we could just get to know each other," he said. "Why can't we just get to know each other? I almost never get any howdy-dos, you know." 

"That could be because you're a giant fucking dragon who, you know, eats sheep and cattle and burns things to the ground. Like Phandalin. Remember Phandalin?" Dirk turned away from the dragon, limping toward one of the bookshelves. The monster must have stashed his shit somewhere, and the shelves were as good a place to start as any.

"Phandalin?" Jake wondered. "That little town down in the valley? The one with the cider mills? I haven't been there in a donkey's age! What the samhill are you talking about? Did something happen?" 

"Don't fucking play stupid with me," Dirk said. He managed to reach one of the bookcases, but it seemed to be full of nothing but, suitingly, books. He braced himself against one of the shelves he could reach, bending over and straining not to groan as his muscles protested once again. His knees felt like they were about to give out. "You razed Phandalin to the ground. Just because you could, apparently."

"I did no such thing!" Jake protested. His voice was much closer than it had been a few seconds ago. Dirk glanced back to see that the dragon was advancing on him, hands extended in a peace gesture. "I've not got any idea what blather is spilling out of your trap. Is everyone ducky? Tell me nobody was hurt!" 

Dirk swung out one arm toward the dragon, which skittered back a few steps accordingly. It was pointless, since the swing wouldn't have hit anyway and probably would have been weak even if it had. "Come the fuck on," he said. "That's all anybody is talking about, is Lord English razing Phandalin."

There was a long pause. When Dirk managed to twist himself to look at Jake again, his skin had paled a bit, and he was chewing his lip.

"Ah," he said. "I see." He clasped his hands together, not meeting Dirk's eyes. "Well," he said, "that explains why you were mumbling something about the blackheart when you first found me. You must have thought this was his cave. But I'm -- I know this is going to sound like a load of hooey, but I'm not Lord English. Cross my heart and stick a needle in my eye! I'd never dream of doing a thing to Phandalin. Or anywhere at all, really! I would think you might have noticed, but the nature thing is sort of my schtick, and all, so -- "

"So maybe," Dirk said, finally pushing himself off the shelf and starting toward the next one, "that's why you destroyed Phandalin. Human cities, blight on the beauty of nature, all that elf-level shit about trees and forests and flowers and whatever."

"Never!" Jake replied, almost before Dirk had even finished speaking. "I know, I _know_ it sounds like I'm just full of the worst sort of rubbish, here, Dirk, but you've got to believe me. I've got nothing to do with Lord English! He's just the absolute worst sort of brute, don't I know it. If you'd believe it, he stole my old cave from me! And most of the stuff I had in it. This is a pretty pitiful collection compared to what I _used_ to have."

"Give me one good reason I should believe you." 

There was silence in the air. Dirk braced himself on the next shelf and turned to look at Jake, who looked honestly befuddled by the question, his thick eyebrows furrowed and his gapped teeth poking out over his lower lip. He blinked at Dirk, tilting his head slightly to one side. 

"Well," he said, "for one thing, if I was Lord English, you _certainly_ wouldn't still be kicking."

Dirk disliked thinking about just how true that was. "Maybe you're keeping me around for a reason," he said instead of conceding ground. "I don't know why. How am I supposed to know how dragons think? Ransom. Cat-and-mouse. Hell, even if you're not Lord English, like you're saying, maybe you just want to trade me to him for your cave back."

"He definitely wouldn't be interested in a single mouthy chap who's suffering the aftereffects of paralysis," Jake said dubiously. "Maybe if you were back up to snuff and could give him a good row, but in the state you're in, he'd be snoring the second he saw you." He took another step forward, extending his hands again. "Come on, bearcat, I'm trying to give you a hand. Let's get you back onto that pillow. You've got to get lots of rest to let your body recover. That smoke I put out is no friggin' joke! Give me your mitts and let's get you horizontal. Then we can talk a bit more."

Dirk stepped back. Jake paused in his approach. 

"Where's my stuff?" Dirk said. 

"You _really_ don't need your sword," Jake whined, and stepped forward again. "In fact, if you tried to use it in your state, you'd probably end up hurting yourself! Tell me I'm wrong." 

He wasn't. "There's stuff in there I need besides my sword," he said. Mainly, he didn't know how long it had been since he'd checked in with the others. Did they think he was dead yet? He sure fucking hoped not. The last thing he needed was for them to come chasing after him and discover just how many levels he'd fucked this up on. 

And there was the matter of Rose.

Really, had she thought she was sending Dirk to fight Lord English, or was there something else at work in that head of hers? She tended to run weird, secretive plots in even more frequency than Dirk did, though at least usually hers were limited to things that happened within the city. And, normally, not centered around their little group of misfits. More involving her clients and setting up the occasional incident to bring specific people's money knocking at her door. But this ... well. Dirk remembered her sitting at the table, saying this would change things for all of them.

How much _had_ she known? 

"You really don't necessarily need it right this instant, do you?" Jake wheedled. "It's not going to help you recover! Why don't you just let me take care of you, and we can get you your things once you're back to your spry handsome self!" 

"It's just a book," Dirk said. "That's all it is. I use it to talk to my friends and my brother. They're probably wondering where I am." He didn't mention Roxy's pink crystal, or the supply of poisons she ensured he kept with him on every job he took. 

Jake frowned and then pinched his mouth to the side. "You can't tell them to come here," he said in one rush of breath. "I get hinky around a host of folks, especially if said folks are looking to slip a sword in my ribs! And I don't want to have a whole gaggle of strangers that I've got to look after and nurse back to health. Dealing with you is already going to be difficult enough, or so I've got figured!" 

What was that supposed to mean? "It's not my fucking fault you knocked me out and I'm shitting useless."

Jake folded his arms. One of his eyebrows rose in a sharp arc. "It sort of is," he said. 

That wasn't wrong, either. Dirk sighed. "Okay, look," he said. "You can leave my armor and my sword and whatever you think is dangerous there. But I want my pack. It has my book in it and if my friends think I'm dead, they're going to come looking for me." Or they might be smart enough not to chase a fucking dragon, but this was the only argument he had to get the dragon to agree. "So I'll write to them and tell them I have it under control, alright, and that they don't need to come check on me. Alright?"

Jake searched Dirk's face for a moment, but he must have bought whatever he saw there. He let out a sigh, pushed his glasses up his nose, and nodded. "Alright, fine," he said. "But can you at _least_ come back here and lay down, first? You're probably screwing your body up something awful trundling around like this!" He extended his hands and wiggled his fingers. "Come on! I can give you the ol' piggyback over if your cat-sticks are hurting. Let's get you back to something comfortable." 

"If you try to give me a piggyback ride, I will throttle you," Dirk said, but he didn't have much choice about accepting Jake's help. His knees were killing him. He took Jake's hands. Immediately, Jake hauled one of Dirk's arms over his shoulders and helped him back over to the pillow beside the fire. He picked up his own forgotten cup of tea -- clearly gone cold -- and blew on it until, a moment later, it was steaming. "Here you go," he said, pushing it into Dirk's hands. "Drink it this time! It's good for what ails you." 

Dirk took the cup and, Jake eagerly watching him, took a sip. It was good, for tea, but Dirk had really never considered himself much of a tea person. He supposed it was probably very healthy, and it did make him feel a little bit better to have some sustenance in him. Gods knew how long it had been since he'd last eaten, after all.

"I'll be back in two shakes," Jake said, and stepped back.

It wasn't so much a transformation. There was no ripping skin, cracking bone, no human face giving way to something sinister and reptilian. Instead, one moment, Jake stood there in his green robe, taking a deep breath -- Dirk blinked -- and the next, there was a much bigger, greener, and scalier Jake, teeth bared in what Dirk suspected was supposed to be a grin, tail and wings dripping moss like he'd been bathing in it. He gave one great flap of his wings, lifting into the air, then vanished deeper into the cave. His shape was only visible for an instant in the darkness.

Now Dirk had to consider his options.

Jake would be back before long. With his muscles in the state they were, he probably couldn't make it all the way back to the entrance of the cavern before Jake found him and dragged him back to bed. Or, rather, back to pillow. He took another sip of the tea. It was impossible to tell just how fucked up his body was without a physicker looking him over, but he suspected the answer was "extremely," and straining himself trying to hike out of the cave and ride back down the mountain would probably only make things worse. So, running wasn't an option.

But the alternative was staying in this fucking cave with a fucking dragon. 

There was really no reason to believe anything that Jake had told him. Maybe he was actually Lord English, and he was playing with Dirk for some reason. Maybe he wasn't Lord English, but had sinister intentions for Dirk anyway. Maybe he was planning to eat Dirk and add his skull to the prominent collection of them -- though if he was telling the truth, he'd apparently had even more of them at some point. Maybe that was where all the human skulls were, was in Lord English's cozy, stolen dragon nest. 

He needed advice.

That was also a problem. He couldn't go to Dave or Roxy and just explain what had happened. They would never let him live it down. He could, he supposed, go to Rose, but only because she'd probably known all of this was coming in the first place, and even then she'd be horrendously smug about it. Which led to the agonizing decision of whether to deal with it now, or stay quiet and deal with it later.

It wasn't really much of a choice, truth be told. He kept working away at the tea. On some level, he was relieved that it wasn't a sleeping draught in disguise, but on another level, he was annoyed it was, indeed, not magically healing all his aches and pains at once. It was difficult and painful to keep his fingers wrapped around the cup for too long, so he kept switching hands. The fire, no matter how long he watched it, never seemed to lose fuel or burn low. It must have been really damn convenient, Dirk decided, to be a dragon and not have to worry about reasonable mortal bullshit like that. 

He had finished his tea by the time Jake flapped back into the main cavern, and was idly passing the cup from hand to hand since he had nowhere to set it and didn't particularly want to get up. From his position on the pillow, he could see a brown knapsack clutched in Jake's mouth. Or, more appropriately, clutched by exactly one of Jake's teeth, the strap wound around it and the pack dangling down. Jake landed on the other side of the fire from him, moss clouding off his wings in a fine powder as he folded them back in. Under his feet, even more moss appeared on the cavern floor. Dirk blinked, and there, in the middle of the puddles of moss, stood human Jake, knapsack in his hands. This time, the flower at his ear was yellow. 

"I certainly hope this is the right one," he said, a bit bashfully. "I'd forgotten just how many bits and bobs I had stashed! I'm sure putting your things with all the rest sounded like a good idea at the time, but hang me, I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached!" His steps toward Dirk were a bit slower and more cautious this time. Maybe he was expecting Dirk to attack him. "And how are we feeling, buddy o' mine?"

"Sore," Dirk said. "You were right. That tea didn't do shit." He held out his cup, shaking it to indicate the cup was empty. Jake, like some sort of hound, perked up at once, shoulders straightening and eyes lighting up. His cautious steps turned into hurried ones.

"You finished it!" he said, smiling. On anyone that wasn't a fucking dragon, his gap-toothed grin might have been charming. "Did you like it? I bet you feel loads better with something nice and warm in your belly. I always do!" 

"It was fine," Dirk said, handing over the cup as Jake extended a hand. Accordingly, he reached out his other hand. Jake looked at it like he expected it to grow extra fingers. "My bag?" Dirk said.

"Oh! Right! Sure as sugar, here you go." Describing how Jake deposited the bag into Dirk's lap as "unceremonious" would have been an exaggeration. Dirk let out an "oof" as it thumped against his legs. "Do tell me if that one's not yours, and I'll go find the right one before you can say bob's your uncle." 

It didn't take much to surmise whether it was his or not. He lifted the flap and peered inside. One book, one pink crystal -- was it _glowing?_ He'd have to ask Roxy about that -- several bottled potions and poisons, a few wrapped bits of hardtack and apples. The apples were, unfortunately, bruised beyond repair. Dirk fumbled around in the sack, fishing them out one by one.

He'd barely even gotten one out before Jake had pounced upon it.

"It's bad," Dirk said, frowning down at the dragon.

"For you, maybe!" Jake replied. He settled himself against the base of Dirk's pillow. One of his fingers had grown into a wicked-looking claw, which he was now using to peel the fruit he'd just picked up. "But I can use the peels for some more tea, and a little bit of bruising never hurt me any!" 

Far be it from Dirk to protest. "Suit yourself," he said, tugging out one of the pieces of hardtack. He unwrapped it, raising it to his mouth.

"Hey!" Jake said. "Don't you dare!" 

Dirk lowered the hardtack. "Why the hell not?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows down at the dragon. Jake reached up and grabbed the bread out of his hands, crunching it into crumbs effortlessly. "Hey!" Dirk protested.

"There's no need for you to eat something as absolute shit as some crackers," Jake groused. "I can chef us up a nice, filling stew, and you won't have to eat any of this malarkey." 

Dirk, instead of pulling out another piece of hardtack, rolled his eyes and pulled out the journal. "Fine," he said. "But I'm saving the others for the ride back to Camorr."

"That won't be necessary, either." Jake smiled up at Dirk, showing off his gapped teeth. A breeze that didn't exist ruffled the petals of the flower at his ear. "I can make you up something a hell of a lot nicer to take back on the road with you."

"Hell," Dirk said. "Whatever. Fine." He rolled his eyes again as Jake began trimming the apple into slices. The charcoal was still tucked into the binding of his book, and he pulled it out as he flipped the pages to where he'd left off. Sure enough, there were a series of written messages in varying sets of handwriting.

hey dirk  
i know youre still there somewhere man  
dont leave a bro hanging  
wed all appreciate it if we knew whether or not you were still alive  
did you find the dragon  
did the dragon eat you  
are you in its stomach doing that badass crazy warrior thing like fighting your way out from inside as we speak  
that sounds like something hed do doesnt it somebody back me up here  
It does.  
thanks i fuckin thought so  
hey rose  
Hello, Dave.   
can you like extend your whole psychic thing and tell me if dirks dead  
open your third eye  
blitz your chakras  
and if hes dead can we hold a wicked seance  
He's not dead.  
whew  
whoops i mean bummer  
i was really looking forward to that seance who knows what sort of shit dirk could get up to as an angry ghost that got eaten by a dragon  
though knowing dirk hed just appear and be like  
wooooooo i did this to myself wooooooo im a huge massive failure wooooooo  
dude turns into a massive downer whenever anything goes wrong  
youre speaking truth to power right now dave  
uh roxy im always speaking truth to power its what i do  
and in this case the truth is that dirk is ridiculous and the power is dirk pretending not to be ridiculous  
hes still not writing  
rose are you sure he's n  
I am very sure he's not dead.   
yeah but how do you know  
You know that face I make at you when you've said something stupid?  
yeah  
I'm making that face.  
sweet love you too  
roxy what do you say we start making plans to rescue him  
ive already got 16 different approaches drafted out do you wanna hear em?  
fuck yes  
start with the most ridiculous one you have i wanna hear it  
it involves tying a chariot to a herd of stray cats  
hell yes im there  


The conversation apparently hadn't been going for that long. Or, at least, the last part of it hadn't been. As Dirk watched, Roxy's sloppy handwriting started to fill out another line. He sighed and lifted his own charcoal.

"What's got you sighing?" Jake asked, starting on the next apple. 

"My friends are being ridiculous," Dirk said. The dragon didn't need to know any more than that. 

ok so were going to need bait  
lots and lots of bait  
from experience i can tell you fish work best so well need to hit the docks  
how good are u at fishing dave  
That really isn't going to be necessary.  
hopy shit  
Why does your L look like a P?  
um because i wrote a p obviously get with the program  
the lrogram  
What lrogram am I supposed to be getting with, here?  
Hello, Dirk.  
Hi, Rose.  
I did warn you.  
I really don't want to hear it.  
wait what did she warn you about  
ditto rose what did you say to him  
was it "watch out and try not to let the dragon eat you"  
did he get eaten by the fucking dragon rose  
dirk are you writing from a dragon stomach right now  
i dont mean to kinkshame but im kinkshaming  
Dude, gross.  
um dirk pls  
if we aint gonna kinkshame then you cant kinkshame  
Why am I even entertaining this.  
because u loooooove me  
Ok, look.  
I am not in the dragon stomach. Fighting or writing or otherwise. Also, even if I was, it wouldn't be hot. Please restrain your weird goddamn boners.  
The dragon isn't here.  
Oh?  
Isn't it?  
No. It is very much not.  
hmm  
Hmm what, hmm.  
whats goin on between u 2  
things are tense if it aint just me  
i mean i dunno if things are shit but it is kinda weird that the dragon isnt where rose told you to go  
She just told me where the cave was.  
It's not like she knew whether the dragon would be here.  
He's correct that I said nothing of the sort.   
ok wait  
roxys right this is fishy as hell  
what the fucks going on here are the two of you hiding something  
No.  
What an absurd question, Dave. When have I ever hid anything from you?  
uh do you want a list  
That's not necessary. I remember every single time.  
ughhhh i swear 2 gods rose when u and dirk get together its bullshit  
why cant you talk like real fuckin people instead of just fuckin dancing around each other   
this aint the royal ballet  
You're welcome to go, if you're not entertained.  
dirk  
Yeah.  
u swear ur ok  
Cross my heart.  
I'm going to wait here until the dragon gets back. Then I'll take care of it.  
ok well something there is still fish as hell but i give up  
dont do nothin stupid  
Ok.  
cmon dave lets go get drinks before you head out for that job  
uh yeah alright  
dirk   
Yeah.  
real glad youre ok  
ok im out before you can respond to that seeya  
Bye.   
Really, Dirk.  
Not even a parting quip?   
I'm ashamed. You had a perfectly good opportunity to get the last word in and you passed it up. What sort of friend are you, to disappoint me like this?  
Rose.  
Yes, Dirk.  
What am I supposed to do now.  
That's an odd question when you assured all of us that the dragon wasn't there and you had everything under control.  
Rose, please.  
Roxy and Dave don't need to know about this. I'd appreciate if you could find a way to make sure they don't see this conversation.  
Don't worry. I'll keep it under control.   
As for what you're supposed to do ...   
Well, that's up to you, isn't it? I can hardly tell you every possible option, or every possible result.  
Are you at least getting along with the dragon?  
He's keeping me from eating hardtack because he wants to feed me stew instead.  
My, my. What a generous host. It sounds like you couldn't ask for anyone better to nurse you back from the brink of death.   
I wasn't almost dead.  
On the contrary.   
Had he not looked after you while you slept, things might have been quite dire indeed.  
Did your seer vision tell you that?  
No, my research told me that. I've been spending my time at the library while you've been away, looking up records of dragons that match the description of the one I saw in my vision.   
If I'm correct, that brief flash of insight I had was referring to his smoke, and that can be dangerous if not treated quickly. You're very lucky.   
I don't feel lucky.   
I feel sore.  
Well, yes, I imagine you're that as well.   
So, am I just supposed to wait this out?  
If that's what you want to do.  
Dirk, I told you. I can't see every detail of your situation. But from what I did see, and from what you've been saying, he seems like a pleasant enough creature.   
And you'll only hurt yourself if you try to leave.  
Why not allow yourself to be doted on this one time?  
You know exactly why.  
Ah, yes, I do. It's a trait you and I have in common, I'm afraid. Our complete inability to admit weakness.  
But we are both only human.  
And you did almost die.  
Consider it a favor to Dave, Roxy, and I. If you try and flee, you'll likely kill yourself, and we'd greatly prefer you to be alive.   
And, after all, you have your contingency plan, don't you? Roxy's crystal.  
If things get untenable, or something goes wrong, you could always use that.  
Fuck.  
I hate this.  
Yes, I know.  
How is it you always describe yourself? As a man of action?   
So it must be quite difficult for you to sit back and let someone else take the reins.  
You could quit being smug about it.  
I'm afraid it's a permanent condition.  
Is that all?  
Yeah.  
For now, I guess.  
But trust me, Rose, when I'm feeling a bit better, I've got a big list of words for you about you sending me here in the first place.  
Of that, I have little doubt.  
Enjoy yourself, Dirk.  


Dirk flexed his fingers, taking the charcoal and tucking it back into the journal's binding. His fingers were cramping horribly, but there wasn't much to be done for it. He shoved the journal into his bag. Below him, Jake had begun noisily eating the apple in his hand, biting into it instead of cutting it into pieces like the last one. Even as Dirk looked down at him, he took another loud bite. 

Jake seemed to detect that Dirk's eyes were on him. He looked up, stopping chewing for an instant, one cheek full of apple. "Wha?" he murmured. "Som'hn wrong?" 

"My friends are absurd," Dirk said, letting his bag clunk to the floor, "and my hand is cramped."

Immediately, Jake's eyes went big. He put the half-eaten apple down and swallowed his giant bite, extending his hands and wiggling his fingers. "Pass those daddles here! I can get them back to tickety-boo in a blink!"

"The last thing I need is a fuckin' massage," Dirk said, pressing his hand against his side to attempt to work feeling back into the tips of his fingers. 

Jake, however, didn't relent. His eyebrows rose behind his glasses, and his eyes flickered over to where Dirk's hand was. "That really can't be comfortable," he coaxed. "And seeing as it wouldn't be in such a state if I hadn't gotten a bug up my bum, it's only reasonable that you let me help with it! Come on, give your hand here."

Dirk sighed, but leaned forward and extended his curled hand. Jake all but pounced upon it. Dirk had a brief moment to be relieved that the dragon's hands were just human, the claw from before no longer present. Then Jake started digging those fingers into Dirk's hands, and they might as well have been claws, after all. Pins and needles dug painfully in between Dirk's knuckles, and he winced, yanking his hand back.

Jake didn't relent. "Oh, unknot your knickers. It'll feel better in a blink." Instead of letting Dirk pull his hand away, he clasped it tighter. He worked his knuckles in between Dirk's, then pressed his thumb in between the delicate bones on the back of his hand. Dirk clenched his teeth. It felt like knives were digging into his skin. Jake tugged his fingers straight, rubbed them, then turned his hand over and started pressing his thumbs into the long lines across Dirk's palm.

He did have to begrudgingly admit that it was starting to feel better. The numbness in his fingers was abating, and his hand was slowly uncurling from the cramped pen shape it had been in before. Either Jake's work was getting less intense, or it had worked enough that the pain was reducing.

"There you go," Jake said, and released his hand. Dirk tugged it back, flexing his fingers. "Not such an ordeal, after all, is it? I swear, Strider, I'm getting the feeling you're going to make an almighty upset about just about anything I do." 

"Look," Dirk said. Jake blinked guilelessly up at him as he settled back against the base of the pillow. "You're going to have to deal with the fact that I'm not exactly thrilled to be stuck here with a fucking dragon, okay? At any minute, you could get pissed and decide I'm monster chow."

Jake's lower lip poked out in a pout. "I'm not a _monster,_ " he said. "And even if I were, I'd never eat a human. You lot are much too fascinating for that! The sort of things you get up to, the way you talk and think, how short your lives are and yet you pack them so full of ... well, of everything, really. You make such beautiful trinkets, too." At that, he looked around at the cave, as though he was taking in everything there for the first time. "I mean, look at all this stuff!"

"It's a lot of junk," Dirk said.

"Oh, poppycock," Jake sniffed. "You're just jealous. I've got a whole library's worth of some of the best yarns your kind have ever spun! Histories, novels, plays, you name it. I've got more goodies than I can hold. This is the _second_ part of the cave I've started filling with my collection! Did you know, some of these tapestries are hundreds of years old?" 

Dirk snorted. Jake snorted right back. There was a moment of silence that hung in the air between them, and then Jake took another bite of his apple. He crunched loudly in the flickering light. 

"So," Dirk said. "What am I supposed to do while I'm healing, here?" 

"Well," Jake said. When Dirk looked down, he bore witness to the extremely unpleasant sight of Jake biting directly into an apple core. He chewed and swallowed loudly. "Like I just said, there's an absolute friggin' misery of books in here. You're welcome to read any one you want. Once you're more up to moving around, it'll be good for you to do a little bit of ankling, and then you can explore my humble abode all you like." He ate the other half of the apple core in one bite, then looked up at Dirk with a wide smile. There were bits of fruit stuck against his gums, and a seed was wedged right in the middle of his gapped front teeth. For an instant, Jake frowned, and then he leaned forward to spit the apple stem onto the floor. "That bit always gets stuck in my craw," he said, like he was sharing some kind of secret. Then, casually, "Do you want me to get you one of my favorite stories? It's a real nailbiter! You can get a good start on it while I'm off catching us some dinner!" 

"You're not just going to put me back to sleep?" Dirk asked, with a raise of one eyebrow. "Not worried I'm going to go poking around in all your shit?" 

"Well," Jake said, raising one finger to his mouth and picking the bits of apple out of his teeth with the same claw he'd been skinning apples with a few minutes ago, "I mean, there's nothing that I'm worried you're going to find. If you're feeling up to rambling about then I don't see why you shouldn't have your run of the place! That said, I'd be completely astonished if you're not sore to the core of your bones right this second." 

As Dirk watched, Jake climbed to his feet and stretched slowly, raising one arm over his head and then the other. Dirk couldn't help but wonder if that really did much of anything for his dragon shape. Was it akin to stretching out his wings, working out the stiff muscle? Did it serve any purpose at all, or was it just some imitation of humanity being performed by a monster that didn't understand what it was doing?

"Do you want a book?" Jake repeated. Dirk snapped out of his contemplation, and instead, began performing some mental math as to how long it'd be before Jake got back from his little adventure.

"No," he said, and affected a yawn. "I think I'm going to go back to sleep. I'm still pretty fuckin' bushed, dude. Your smoke did a number on me. I'm fucked up." 

He expected Jake to see right through him, but Jake didn't even blink. "That's probably for the best!" he chirped. "I'm going to go find us a nice big deer so I can make some stew. Maybe by the time you're back up and about, it'll be done and we can sup on up." His smile spread a little bit. "And then you can tell me about your friends!" 

Dirk bit down the immediate reply that he would really rather not. "We'll see how up to it I feel," he said instead. 

Jake seemed to take that in stride. "Do you think you can get back over to the furs on your own? I wouldn't want you to be cold." He started stretching his legs, doing quick, short lunges forward, then springing back up. 

"I'll be fine," Dirk said. "There's still this fire here, too, if I can't." 

"Okay," Jake said. He took a few steps forward, around the fire, and Dirk watched him clench his fists and then extend his fingers slowly. "I'll be back in a wink!" he said, and looked over his shoulders to do just that. Dirk carefully kept his face even, and, in response, Jake's face fell a little bit. He heaved a sigh, shoulders raising and then falling again. "Okay, then," he said. "Later, gator!" 

With that, the dragon appeared where Jake had been standing. He was close enough that the air whipping off Jake's tail ruffled Dirk's hair. An instant later, Jake crouched, then sprung into the air, vanishing off into the cave the opposite way from where he'd gone before. The wind from his wings pushed Dirk flush back into the pillow.

He waited a good few minutes before he attempted to climb back up. The pillow threatened to swallow him, but he managed to push his way out. His feet started protesting almost immediately, but he had a solution for that. He reached into his pack, yanked out a phial full of red liquid, and downed it. Immediately, he felt better -- not _well,_ but better, the pain muted slightly. It would, at least, fool his body for long enough to him to do some mapping out of this hellhole. He wanted his fucking armor, and he _really_ wanted his goddamned sword.

So he started off in the direction that Jake had flown before, when he'd fetched Dirk's bag. 

The cavern floor was smooth, though there was no moss like there was near the fire. Maybe Jake didn't land much in this part of the cave. Dirk had worked out it was where he walked that sprung up with life. Was it a dragon thing, or a nature spirit thing, or some of both?

It didn't matter. At least his footing was even. Either this cavern had been carved out and smoothed over by the elements ages ago, or Jake had taken measures to make it comfortable when he'd moved in. And gods knew how long he'd been here. Dragons probably lived for hundreds of years, and it was impossible to tell just how old he actually was. Sure, he didn't look that much older than Dirk, as a human, but it wasn't like that actually meant anything. 

There were no torches in the next cave, and Dirk paused as he reached where the lit part of the tunnel gave way to more shadow than he felt comfortable exploring. He knew he should turn back, but the fact was, his sword had to be back here somewhere -- and even if he couldn't swing it in this state, he would feel a hell of a lot better just to have it with him.

So, accordingly, though his steps slowed, he kept walking. His movements became more tentative, and he blinked in the dark as he waited for his eyes to adjust. The further he moved into the darkness, the easier it became to see the walls and the floor -- still, surprisingly, sloping and gentle, not a stray pebble out of place. He still moved slowly -- partially out of caution, and partially because all the movement he'd been doing was really starting to get to his feet, potion or no. This had been a bad idea. But turning back now seemed pointless. 

And, when he squinted forward into the dark ... 

No, he was certain he wasn't imagining it. There was some kind of light against the wall, a good distance ahead. Maybe it was another exit from the cavern, though it definitely seemed like he was much too deep in the mountain for that. But who knew? He wasn't exactly familiar with the Frostfangs. Maybe there was some sort of secret valley. Maybe it was just some sort of luminescent moss. That seemed up Jake's alley.

Or maybe it whatever little cranny Jake stashed all his bullshit in. 

He turned his steps toward that light. As he continued forward, his walk turned into a limp, which turned into an even slower limp. But he kept walking, watching the floor to keep his footing even. The closer he got to that light, the more small patches of moss began to appear, which he thought had to be a good sign. The moss likely meant that Jake came here often -- or, at least, often and recently enough that the moss hadn't withered and died yet. 

As he drew closer to that light, it became accordingly easier to see. The light was a pale green, almost muted and grey. Dirk almost expected to see wisps or fireflies as he stepped further forward. Here, the moss was almost a carpet, as wide across as Dirk was tall, leading right up to the entrance -- or exit -- where the light was cascading through. As Dirk got closer, blinking shapes into focus, he could see that the light was filtering through thick, wide leaves. 

He reached out a hand and pushed them aside.

It was another cavern, albeit one with a hole very far above, letting sunlight stream down into it. The walls were shrouded with leaves and vines and moss, dozens of vibrant shades of green lining every single inch. 

Whatever this was, it wasn't where Jake had put his sword. Dirk stepped all the way in, letting himself collapse into a sitting position as he attempted to give his muscles a break. He glanced around at the room, squinting in the bright light after so long wandering in the dark. The moss here was as thick and comfortable as grass, which was a relief against his aching muscles. 

The walls were speckled with flowers of various colors -- bright blues, oranges, yellows, and violets. Between the light piercing through the top of the cavern and the moss-covered floor, there was a nest of vines across the ceiling, tethered every which way like the scarves in Roxy's flat. Each vine was strewn with just as many flowers, these ones bigger and sharp-petaled. Dirk's eyes slowly roamed downward, following the contours of the cavern. A creeping wall of ivy fell over one curved wall, leading down into a small pool of water that was rife with wild-growing roots and clouded with algae.

Dirk squinted.

The way the shadows fell against the ivy were odd. There was a darkness there that shouldn't have been. Everywhere else in this little crevice, where the walls weren't covered by greenery, he could see the shapes of the rock, the color of it -- light brown marbled with gray -- behind the vines. He could, in fact, see where the roots of the plants had taken hold in the rock, though he imagined that it took a shitload of maintenance to keep them growing in here, even with the slivers of sunlight. But behind the wall of ivy, he couldn't see the rock. He couldn't see any cracks in the stone where the plant would take roots, or even some sort of texture for the plant to climb up. A part of him wondered if the growth was just too thick for him to see through, but --

He pulled himself back to his feet, stepped forward, and tugged at the ivy.

It was less of a wall and more of a curtain. The leaves were laced into each other, grown like a self-supporting lattice, and Dirk, at once, pulled the curtain aside. It didn't push all at once like one of Rose's thick, lush curtains, but instead the plant -- almost as though it was intelligent -- seemed to clump together and latch onto itself, holding itself closer to the wall.

The cave he revealed was less covered in greenery, and probably a third the size of the rest of this little hideaway. There was still moss on the floor, and the pool of water continued back into this part of the cavern. In the middle of the pool was a single stone spire, wrapped in a loose pattern of vines and flowers. The spire flattened to give way to a single closed rose bud at the top, wrapped in its own thick leaves. The flower was the size of Dirk's head. 

Jake would be back any moment. This was clearly some kind of secret sanctuary of his, and Dirk didn't want to know what Jake might do if he found Dirk here. It was damn likely it would mean his cave-exploring privileges were gone, and gods knew what else. Nobody liked somebody poking around in their shit, and a dragon would probably like it even less. 

Dirk sighed. 

"It's just a fucking rose," he said, and reached out to touch it. 

He didn't know what he was expecting. Just the touch of velvet petals, an assertion that it was just a flower. Maybe, at worst, he expected the prick of thorns and a new, nasty injury for Jake to look after. It was just Jake's weird little shrine to nature, growing a single oversized rose in darkness behind a curtain of ivy. He'd heard of normal, mundane people doing weirder things than this for the hell of it. 

Instead, the bud began to blossom.

Dirk wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed a flower bloom before, but watching it do so at an accelerated pace would have been a new experience regardless. It became even more of an experience the more the rose opened up and revealed what was inside. 

As the petals parted, it gave way to smooth, sheer white, gone a bit yellow with age. What the rose held within it was perfectly preserved, without so much as a crack or dent in even a single one of the hollows. Dirk stepped back. He felt his own face fall as the rose finished blooming, its soft red petals framing the object inside with something that felt almost akin to reverence.

It was, of course, a skull.

A single, human skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at [@stormsbourne!](http://stormsbourne.tumblr.com/)


End file.
